


Lethal Waltz

by WindMeister8



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Assassination, Ballroom Dancing, F/M, Poison, killer, waltz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4335257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindMeister8/pseuds/WindMeister8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dancing with a handsome, raven-eyed stranger. What could be more fun, exciting... and dangerous?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lethal Waltz

**Author's Note:**

> **(AU Note: For maximum effect, listen to[this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZ0F_quzMi4))**

All pairs of eyes were focused on the conductor as he lifted his baton and with an exaggerated wave of his hand, brought the small group of musicians to life. A beautiful yet haunting classical waltz piece filled the halls and couples took to the dance floor. Soon, an array of colorful dresses and tuxedos were swishing around in an almost hypnotic manner, occupying every foot of the space without treading on each other’s toes. It was a time of celebration and fun for most. But also a time of opportunity and danger for a select few.

You surreptitiously eyed the raven-eyed gentleman clad in a black tuxedo who stood across the hall from you. He was incredibly good-looking with his hair sleeked to the back and his grey penetrating eyes that seemed to be able to peer into your soul. Admittedly, he was a tad short but he made up for it with his fit and muscular body. Many women had tried to goad him into dancing with them but he had rejected all of them pretty curtly. Apparently, he didn’t possess the silver tongue that men of his trade usually had. 

Knowing that he must have already scoured the place like you did, it was really a matter of time before one of you made a move on the other. You took another sip of your wine, examining him through the reflection off the glass. He had put down his wine glass and was walking in your direction. Smirking to yourself, you pretended not to notice as he cleared his throat behind you.

“Oh,” you exclaimed in mock surprise as your eyes met his and you immediately felt yourself being drawn into the confident and collected aura that he exuded.

“I’m sorry to startle you but would you care for a dance?” He offered his hand, bending slightly at the waist.

You took his calloused hand and smiled gently. “Thank you. I would very much like to.”

As the two of you walked to the center of the dance floor, heads turned and many jealous looks were thrown your way. Ignoring the attention that you were getting, you placed your hand on his shoulder whereas his other hand fell to your slim waist. The two of you were an arm’s length apart as you slowly got into the rhythm of the waltz, moving in time with the triple beat of the piece. 

“So, what is your line of work, if I may ask?” you inquired as you swayed to the rhythm. 

“I’m a ferryman,” came his short answer.

Chuckling, you brushed some imaginary dust from his shoulder. “I’m curious. What kind of people do you normally have on the ferry?”

His lips curled up ever so slightly as he replied, “People like you, in fact. Those with deadly charm.”

Your mouth formed a small ‘o’ as you winked at him. “You are a sweet talker too huh, mister. I dare say the one with deadly charm is you.”

“We shall see about that, shall we?” he smirked as he tilted his right foot slightly before bringing it back to its original position.

In a split second, he closed the distance but you had already anticipated his move and you let go of his shoulder, moving to the side with your arm spread out so that the two of you were now in a straight horizontal line. The open nature of your current waltz position exposed the blade protruding from his right shoe and he immediately whipped it back out of sight. 

In accordance with waltz protocol, you twirled back towards him, your dress billowing out into a beautiful circle around your waist. You discretely stretched your arm out a little more than necessary and firmly snapped it back into position, causing a little signet ring to poke out of your sleeve. Your dexterous little finger bent into your palm and slipped the ring on before pulling it out of the grip of the mechanical device. Now that the ring was securely on your finger, you thumbed the side of it and a small sharp needle emerged from its surface, its tip covered in poison that would render a human dead within seconds.

As you neared him, your heartbeat accelerated, every muscle in your body tense and awaiting the next move. The distance between the two of you was decreasing rapidly. In just another second, you would be able to lay your hand back on his shoulder and just prick the needle through the fabric of his suit.

But as your hand reached out to deliver the touch of death, his eyes darted to your ring and immediately he grabbed your neck and forcefully yanked you down so that you were now lying on his arm, your other arm with the signet ring instinctively wrapped around his neck with the needle facing away from his body. 

You couldn’t twist your finger to prick him, not with the force that you had to exert to keep yourself upright. And neither could he make a move while he was still supporting you in this position. The two of you stared at each other, silently daring the other to do something. The longer the two of you locked gazes, the more you were mesmerized by his grey hues. He too seemed to be relishing in the moment for his lips twitched upward slightly.

Finally breaking the silence, you gave a lilting laugh. “Seems like you’re a great dancer too.”

“And so are you,” he replied, lifting you up onto your feet while his other hand held the arm you had around his neck, pinning your little finger into position.

When you were securely on both feet, he removed your arm from his neck, still gripping your fingers tightly. As he let go of your fingers one by one, his middle finger slipped to the side of the ring, rubbing the outer rim which triggered the mechanism to slowly retract the poisonous needle.

He took a step back, giving you a small smirk. The dance had ended in a stalemate but the night was still young.

“I guess this counts as a draw then,” you teased, “as to who’s the better dancer. Want to go for another round?”

His grey eyes twinkled in amusement. “I would love to. But first..”

He snapped his fingers and a waiter appeared at his side with a bottle of vintage wine. Pouring the wine into the two glasses on the tray, he handed you one of the glasses. You accepted with a smile and discreetly studied the blood-red liquid that sloshed in the glass. Although you couldn’t find anything wrong with it, you decided to play it safe.

“To our coincidental meeting.” He raised his glass, a tiny smirk on his lips.

“Coincidental, indeed.” You clinked glasses with him and waited for him to drink first.

Nodding at you, he said, “Oh, please do savor it first. As the person who provided the wine, it would be impolite of me to take the first sip.”

You gave a small smile as you raced through all the possible actions you could take. Lifting the glass to your lips, you were struck with a brilliant but crazy idea. Your lips opened slightly, allowing a little wine to spill into your mouth. 

He watched as a bulge in your throat formed and travelled downwards, indicating that you had swallowed the poisonous wine. You walked towards him, smiling flirtatiously at him as you swayed your hips in time with the music. When you were barely a few inches away from him, you stopped and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his, surprising him with your action. After a few seconds, his lips parted, giving you access to his mouth. You took the opportunity and deepened the kiss, at the same time using your tongue to push the poisonous wine that you had pretended to swallow into his mouth. 

Shocked by the sudden turn of events, he inadvertently swallowed his own wine as you took a step back, watching as his eyes widened in horror. He clutched at his throat as the poison took effect. You grimaced slightly as he started to gag, blood trickling down from his mouth. Falling to his knees, he looked at you with a smile on his ashen face.

He mouthed a silent “You win” before collapsing to the floor, his grey eyes closing as death consumed his soul. Before people started to panic, you walked away from the ball room just as the music came to an end. Once you were outside with no one around, you tore away the flesh mask and wig that you were wearing, reassuming your identity as (F/N) (L/N), private Ferryman – like the dead Levi Ackerman – working for a company that specialized in escorting people to the other world in the most glorious manner possible.

And for this mission you had completed, the dossier you had been given had only one line.

_When the dance ends, so does a life._


End file.
